


The Ties That Bind: Sean's Story

by Annwyn



Series: The Ties That Bind [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Part 2 of The Ties That Bind Series, old-school lotrips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annwyn/pseuds/Annwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many ties that bind us to others. Some bonds are born of love and family, some of deceit, others of dependency. And some ties are simply meant...to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ties That Bind: Sean's Story

"Stop wriggling, Aly-bear." he growls. "Or Papa bear'll bite your foot off!"

The little girl seated on the bed giggles with delight but quiets obediently. He gets the other shoe on and lifts her into his arms - she nestles there, secure in his love. He shuts his eyes and searches for the comfort her nearness always brings. And he can't find it - it's lost in the turmoil of his mind - in the guilt that permeates him, body and soul.

Christine meets them at the bedroom door. "Don't be too long." she reminds him.

The scalding shower doesn't do what it's supposed to do. It doesn't relax him - he can still hear the anguish in Elijah's voice, the frantic pleading, the denial. _You have to be here,_ he cries silently. _You have to see what you're taking on!_ Baggage. Piles and piles of it. He smiles mirthlessly. Me, in the bosom of my family...

Sir Ian had called him cruel - but had admitted he was right.

*******

He's late. He's not coming. People have been looking for him all night. Asking Sam where his Frodo is. Ian had assured him Elijah would be here - now even he looks worried. Sean's nerves are shot all to hell. He startles at every knock and Chris is starting to look at him strangely.

He's out on the patio when the decibel level spikes. He doesn't need to hear the babble of greeting to know. He can feel it in the prickle of his skin - in the tightness of his chest. In the pounding of his heart.

Elijah's back is turned to them, and Sean's eyes fall on the sweet curve of his tight ass. Memory imposes the image of his hands kneading the ivory flesh, and he groans inwardly. They are aware of each other. The slender body tenses and Elijah turns slowly. Sean hears the sharp sound of an indrawn breath. Christine has seen pictures of him - now she meets the reality. All the light in the room is gathered in those brilliant eyes, and the soft lips curve in a hesitant smile. Care and pain have drawn him finer and lent him an ethereal air. He doesn't seem grounded - he isn't all here.

Sean loves them. His lover and his wife. And he can't have both. Only the changeable hue of his eyes betray his inner torment. He watches the dance of manners, witnesses the creation of a bond. His lover and his daughter - how the fates must laugh. They walk away from him, hand in hand, and he shuts his eyes against the tears.

"He's beautiful." Chris says wonderingly. He nods. Yes, he is. _All of him is._

He can't help himself - he watches them all night. They are innocence, they are delight.  
They laugh together at some funny story and his heart aches. _He should have children of his own,_ his conscience whispers. He'd be a fantastic father.

He comes out of the kitchen, and Elijah's gone. He spins on his heel, frantically searching, and Ian catches his eye. He gestures upward, mouths the word 'bathroom' and Sean nods in understanding. Ian watches him go, and sighs to himself. He's only been in New Zealand a month and already he feels a paternal concern for these boys. They think him a font of wisdom - Elijah certainly does. Perhaps in this situation he is; but there's nothing he can do that they aren't already doing. It's too late for anything else - all he can be sure of is that there will be pieces of a broken life to mend.

A thin line of light shows under the bathroom door, and Sean leans tiredly against the wall. His head comes to rest against the wood and the sound of harsh sobs resonates through it. Resonate through him. Despair clutches at his throat. He wants to break the door down, to take Elijah in his arms, to comfort him. He stands there, sick with pain, until the sobbing stops - and his imagination runs riot. Oh God - is there anything sharp in there? Scarlet images freeze his blood until common sense reasserts itself. Elijah's survived a childhood in Hollywood, intact and unbroken. There are deep reserves of courage there.

His eyes are blank and blind in the dim light, his gaze turned inward. Remembering...

_Elijah_

The sweetness of that first spontaneous hug. The eerie sense of recognition, of homecoming. The warmth, the quick understanding, the affection. The joy of doing things for him, of smoothing his path. The warm gleam of gratitude in the sapphire eyes. The bond between them that made words unnecessary.

He remembers when the brotherly hugs weren't - when the kisses began to burn. It had frightened him, and he had hurried back to his family with relief. But the dreams had followed him. Night after night, waking up hard, waking up wet. He had known that he was lost when he no longer saw Christine beneath him in the act of love. When the name that he longed to cry out wasn't hers. And he had wept for her, hot tears of regret.

He surfaces for a moment, blinking. He's getting hard again and he pulls his shirt out to hide his arousal. This is gonna be damned inconvenient, he thinks wryly. Sam Gamgee in Mordor with a hard-on - clambering over those rocks is going to be tricky. He listens at the door - Lij is quiet, and he returns to his memories.

'Cuddle-slut', they call him teasingly - and it fits better than they know. He craves love - more than most people; and he never has enough. Having love and giving it is as essential to him as breathing. His profession, the characters he plays, are mute evidence of this. The need is rooted deep in his very being; a legacy of his turbulent childhood. The ache is always with him - familiar and ignored - and never eased. He makes do with what he's got. Should he refuse the simple meal because he's denied the banquet?

He strokes the bulge in his jeans, and moans softly.

Coming back to New Zealand - waiting for Chris and Aly to join him. Elijah helping him move; bouncing on the new-made bed, giggling - testing it, he said. Sprawling there laughing, unguarded, beautiful. Their eyes meeting, clinging; the need, the wanting - oh god - the love. The first fierce kiss, the first caress, the frantic thrusting. Elijah - crying out his name in joyful exultation. The verdant scent of their come, mingling on their bodies. The rightness of it - the peace. Cradling the dark head against his heart; waiting for the guilt that doesn't come. Searching for the old familiar ache, going deep to where it lived, and finding Elijah there.

His hand goes to his groin and he kneads it roughly. The thick denim rasps the sensitive skin and he welcomes the sting. Shuddering, he leans against the wall - and hears Elijah shout his name. There is no joy in the gasping cry - not this time; only grief and aching loneliness. The terrible eroticism of the moment overwhelms him; his body betrays him and he comes with a groan. When he can think again, he feels dirty, secret. Like he's gone off on Elijah's pain. He pushes himself off the wall and staggers to the other bathroom. Cleans up and returns - and raises his hand to knock.

He can't live like this - it goes against his very nature. He's never cheated on Chris before. Now he's found a love that fills the void in him - a passion that consumes him as nothing ever had. He's tasted of the banquet - nothing will ever be the same again. He has to choose - and he knows what the choice must be.

Because _he_ had kissed Elijah.

The door opens and he steps back. They have never needed words before and they do not need them now. Their eyes meet and he knows. The choice has been made for him and he's vaguely surprised to find that he doesn't feel relief. Then they are in each other's arms - Elijah's body shudders against his and he discovers how a heart feels when it breaks.

He's standing in the driveway and he's blinded by his tears. He had it and he's letting it slip away. Something infinitely precious has gone and the void is deeper than before.

Once you know - you can't not know.

*******

Everyone has gone and the house is silent. He is so tired, so emotionally exhausted and all he wants to do is sleep. But he can't rest until he talks to Chris - because that's the way he is. Aly's bedroom door's ajar and he pushes it open. His wife stands by the window, looking out at the moon-lit night. There's a quality in her stillness that alarms him. She turns her head, and the streetlight reflects off the wetness on her cheek. She doesn't look at him, but beyond, through the open door. He follows her gaze out into the hallway, to the bathroom door and he understands. _She knows._

The air is chill with the cold dust of broken promises. He doesn't know if he can regain her trust, if they can be a family again.

But Elijah made the sacrifice, and Sean owes it to him to try.


End file.
